Why oh why won't my brain let me sleep?
Here I am, slogging away trying to equalize the rapidfire drums against this thick bassline on a track I'm calling "Wintermute" (5 points if you get the reference), and all I want to do is sleep. Why, oh why won't you grant me gentle repose dear encaphalo-limbic system?? TRULY YOU ARE AN UNYIELDING DOMINATRIX!
Oh right, I know why.
Today while I was brushing my hair I noticed my eyes looked odd. Somehow, the whites of my eyes had turned grey, which is never a good sign. On closer inspection, I found that every single blood vessel in each eye had managed to swell to such a size that now my irises were surrounded by clusters of thick red branches. This can only mean one thing:
A headache is coming.
And sure enough I can feel it, crawling up my back, solidifying my muscles with cruel spasms. I already know what its going to feel like tomorrow. My temperature is going to rise to an unpleasant level, and the inside of my head is going to feel so unbearably hot, like my brain has decided it no longer wants to be imprisoned in my skull, and so has decided to reform itself into a blob of molten metal and melt a hole out through my face.
God awful. And so hellishly familiar.
I was so dearly hoping I'd leave these chronic headaches behind when I escaped puberty.
Oh well.
Better go lie down and wait for the other shoe to drop.
Wish me luck.
Here I am, slogging away trying to equalize the rapidfire drums against this thick bassline on a track I'm calling "Wintermute" (5 points if you get the reference), and all I want to do is sleep. Why, oh why won't you grant me gentle repose dear encaphalo-limbic system?? TRULY YOU ARE AN UNYIELDING DOMINATRIX!
Oh right, I know why.
Today while I was brushing my hair I noticed my eyes looked odd. Somehow, the whites of my eyes had turned grey, which is never a good sign. On closer inspection, I found that every single blood vessel in each eye had managed to swell to such a size that now my irises were surrounded by clusters of thick red branches. This can only mean one thing:
A headache is coming.
And sure enough I can feel it, crawling up my back, solidifying my muscles with cruel spasms. I already know what its going to feel like tomorrow. My temperature is going to rise to an unpleasant level, and the inside of my head is going to feel so unbearably hot, like my brain has decided it no longer wants to be imprisoned in my skull, and so has decided to reform itself into a blob of molten metal and melt a hole out through my face.
God awful. And so hellishly familiar.
I was so dearly hoping I'd leave these chronic headaches behind when I escaped puberty.
Oh well.
Better go lie down and wait for the other shoe to drop.
Wish me luck.
flux:
Maximillian's car is called Wintermute.
deerailed:
Wintermute is an AI from William Gibson's Neuromancer. 5 POINTS!